


Mudflaps

by pipermca



Series: Prompts and Things [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alt-Mode Sexual Interfacing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Shower Sex, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipermca/pseuds/pipermca
Summary: Hound didn't mind the new mudflaps; after all, their sensors were giving the Autobots valuable information about Earth's environments. He didn't expect them to be quite so sensitive, though.





	Mudflaps

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill for the [**Hound/Sunstreaker: mudflaps**](https://tfrarepairing.tumblr.com/post/177661831681/weekly-request-post) prompt on Transformers Rare Pairing on Tumblr.
> 
> If you squint, it's also semi-based on [this angsty feels fic from @balloonarcade](https://balloonarcade.tumblr.com/post/172535811797/i-am-equally-curious-and-fearful-of-the-pain-you) \- this occurs before that story, obviously.

Hound gritted his dentae and tried to half-transform his left leg assembly. But doing that hurt, since his fender couldn’t move out of the way unless his knee joint rotated, and he couldn’t rotate his knee joint unless his hip plating moved, and his hip plating couldn’t move unless his waist swiveled, and none of that could happen unless his other leg transformed, and if he did **that** , he couldn’t stand up and hold the washrack sprayer at the same time, and **for Pit’s sake** he just wanted to get the uncomfortable dried clods of mud out of his innards!

“Fragging mudflaps,” he growled, trying to angle the sprayer to get up into the inside of his leg assembly. He decided that as soon as he was done here, he’d go see Wheeljack to see if there was some other way to mount the mudflaps so they didn’t flip up into his calves when he transformed.

“You didn’t tell me you were back.”

Hound looked up in surprise to see Sunstreaker standing in the doorway, wearing an odd expression. Hound smiled at Sunstreaker, hoping that this wasn’t a prelude to one of his lover’s jealous sulks. “Hi!” he exclaimed, then shrugged apologetically. “We only just got back a little while ago. I just... I wanted to clean up before I saw you.” 

Sunstreaker’s expression cleared, and Hound relaxed. Sulking averted. Then Sunstreaker smiled in that way that always made Hound’s processor go a little gooey. “Need some help?”

Hound ducked his helm. “Maybe. You wouldn’t **believe** what Trailbreaker and I drove through this morning. Or maybe you would,” he added, looking down at the streams of muddy solvent that spattered the floor of the washrack. “I’ve got huge chunks of dirt under my mudflaps and I can’t get them out.”

The gleaming yellow mech leaned against the doorway of the stall. “The offer of help still stands,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Hound frowned, considering. “I’m really dirty, Sunstreaker,” he said. “You’ll end up needing a wash yourself.”

Sunstreaker shrugged and stepped into the washrack, setting aside the soaps and polishing cloths he’d brought with him. “I was on patrol earlier and came here to wash up anyway.” He took the sprayer from Hound and smiled. “Now, where did you need help reaching?”

Hound lifted his leg. “Inside… Maybe I’ll just transform. Then it’ll be easy to get in there.” When Sunstreaker nodded, Hound folded himself down into his alt mode. 

“Your mudflaps, huh?” Sunstreaker asked. There was something odd in the tone of his voice that Hound couldn’t identify, almost like he was telling one half of a joke. A smile played on Sunstreaker’s lips as he knelt down in the muddy puddles on the washrack floor, resting a hand on Hound’s side. “I can see what you mean.” After examining the Jeep’s undercarriage, he aimed the sprayer nozzle at Hound’s mudflaps. “I guess the whole point of these is to catch mud? Seems like it would make sense for them to be made out of something non-stick so this wouldn’t happen.”

It had been a while since Hound had had liquid sprayed up under him in his alt mode like this. He’d gotten splashed when driving through streams, of course, but those were just quick flushes of liquid. This was very different. Sunstreaker moved the sprayer slowly, and Hound flinched each time the solvent grazed the sensitive sensors on the tops of the flaps. Now that Hound thought about it, he hadn’t had water sprayed under him like this since having the mudflaps installed. “They’re a custom add-on requested by Perceptor that Wheeljack designed,” Hound said, trying to hold his vocalizer steady as the stream of solvent hit the sensors again. “Trailbreaker’s got a set, too. They’re designed to catch the mud and analyze it for mineral and organic content, then transmit the findings back to base. You know, for science.” His words ended in a screech as the solvent stream drilled into the sensors one more time, sending a thrill through his sensor net.

Sunstreaker paused. “Are you all right?” he asked, lowering the sprayer. “Did you want me to stop?”

Hound backed up slightly, pushing into Sunstreaker’s warm hand, trying to encourage him to stroke his plating a little. “I’m fine. All those sensors make the mudflaps pretty sensitive. Getting splashed is fine, but getting hosed down like this, they kind of... um, tingle.” To be honest, Hound was having a hard time deciphering the sensations he was feeling, but ‘tingle’ seemed to be the best way to describe the feelings. 

“They tingle, huh?” Sunstreaker’s tone took on a calculating tone. He raised the sprayer again. “Tingle in a good way?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Hound said, then his horn blared when Sunstreaker directed the nozzle directly at the sensors again. “But not so hard, please!” 

“Sorry.” Sunstreaker shifted, sitting down on his aft and leaning so he could look directly at the flaps. “How about... this?” 

Sunstreaker skimmed the sprayer over the sensors quickly, then back, then forth, then back over and over again. Each time the solvent sprayed the sensors, a jolt of... something... went through Hound’s systems. It almost felt like...

Hound let out a quiet moan. “Yeah,” he said, his vocalizer catching each time the solvent sprayed over his sensors. “Like that…” His ventilations stuttered when Sunstreaker switched to the other mud flap suddenly.

He’d interfaced in his alt mode before, once or twice, but sensations were generally muted. Parts that were quite sensitive in root mode were dulled in alt mode as their sensitivity was rerouted into more useful data. It took a skilled and creative lover to delve into seams and find the parts that hadn’t been desensitized by the mode switch protocols. 

Hound briefly wondered whether Wheeljack had properly included the mudflap’s sensors in those protocols. Then Sunstreaker squirted the solvent against the top of the flaps once more, sending a shock of sensation directly into Hound’s processor, and Hound decided he didn’t really care about mode protocols right now.

“If I didn’t know better,” said Sunstreaker, casually spraying one mud flap and then the other with no apparent pattern or rhythm, “I’d think you were getting charged up from this.” With Sunstreaker sitting directly behind him, Hound’s sensors couldn’t tell what expression the yellow frontliner had, but it sure sounded like he was grinning. “Does this feel good?”

In reply, all Hound could do was let out another soft noise. 

Sunstreaker began moving the nozzle more quickly, honing in on the parts of each flap that made Hound’s chassis shake. As the liquid sprayed each flap in turn, Hound became aware of a strange whining noise that built slowly in volume. He had just realized that the sound was coming from him when his charge crested suddenly and unexpectedly. Blue sparks cascaded through his frame, overloading each of his sensor nets in turn and grounding out through his tires onto the washrack floor. 

He just managed to blurt out Sunstreaker’s designation in Cybertronix before his vocalizer shorted with a squeal of feedback. 

When his sensors had all rebooted, Sunstreaker had shifted and was gently spraying the rest of his frame, carefully keeping the warm solvent off the places he knew were sensitive. His free hand gently stroked Hound’s left front fender. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Sunstreaker said. “How do you feel now?” 

“I feel fragging fantastic, Sunstreaker. Thanks. And I guess I learned something about my new equipment today,” Hound finally said when his vocalizer came back online. He ran a quick scan down his frame and saw that – for the most part – he was clean. All of the huge clods of dirt were gone from his wheel wells and tires, anyway. He transformed and rolled onto his back on the wet floor. “I’ll have to remember this,” he murmured. “And maybe warn Trailbreaker.”

“Trailbreaker already knows,” Sunstreaker said. When Hound looked at him in surprise, Sunstreaker grinned and leaned over to give Hound a quick kiss. “Mirage is the one who told me to try that.”

With a laugh, Hound returned the kiss. “I was wondering why he asked whether I’d gone to a car wash yet!” he exclaimed as their lips parted. He smiled up at Sunstreaker and ran a hand down his cheek. “Maybe we could get you a set of mud flaps so I could return the favour,” he said as their lips parted.

Sunstreaker scoffed and sat up. “No thanks. They’d mess up the silhouette of my alt mode. Besides, I don’t need mudflaps if I never drive through mud, and I have no intention of doing that.” He stood and offered a hand down to Hound. “Now, get up… You’re lying in a muddy puddle. You’re going to need another rinse.” He looked down at his own plating with a grimace and added, “We both do.”

Hound took the sprayer from Sunstreaker. “Allow me,” he said with a smile.


End file.
